


A million stops along a winding road

by cheyennesunrise



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: AU, Afterlife, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyennesunrise/pseuds/cheyennesunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"After we're dead?" "I thought that we already were."<br/>John Reese makes an important discovery on a familiar hilltop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A million stops along a winding road

**Author's Note:**

> Ambiguous one shot. Implied character death. Perhaps the end is only the beginning.

_“I always thought I'd die in a place that didn't know my name.”_  
 _“You think anyone will care for our names?”_  
 _“After we're dead.”_  
 _“I thought we already were.”_

John Reese’s eyes flew open.

He was standing in a familiar spot: a low hill, overlooking a graveyard. 

Dawn was miles away, but he could feel the impatient wings of the morning beating at the edges of the sky.

“Hurry, hurry,” they whispered, and he turned his eyes heavenward.

“Why am I here?” he called, but the sky did not respond. 

“Why?”

His voice was flat, straining.

He didn’t make a sound.

Harold’s words came back to him, carried by the thin, chilly breeze, and fell into his lap one by one.

_“I thought that we already were."_

“Already were _what_ , Harold?” he pleaded.

“Mr. Reese.”

John whirled around.

Harold was there, waiting behind him, smiling as if he’d _always_ been standing there on that hill with John.

“Maybe we are already dead, John. Does it matter?”

His tone was smooth, careful and even, but there was a lilt to his voice, as if he were no longer hiding a terrible secret.

“What do you mean, Finch?”

John’s throat tightened, but he didn’t exhale. 

He couldn’t.

The mist around them was suddenly suffocating, but again, he didn’t choke.

“Long ago, Mr. Reese, we stood on this hill and looked out over the world. I was already aware of our situation, but you were not,” Harold said mysteriously.

“What situation?” John asked slowly.

“It’s been five years, John. Do you remember the bridge?” 

A look of terror flashed across John’s face.

“No,” he whispered.

“Look at the air around you, Mr. Reese. It is the middle of winter, but your breath is not visible. We’re here, and yet- we are not.”

“But- you- the ferry crash?!” John’s eyes went wide as the realization washed over his face.

“Yes, Mr. Reese. One year before you,” he said quietly.

“How did Fusco and Carter-,” John began.

“Divine intervention, I suppose. Symbiosis. We needed them and they needed us,” Harold mused.

“And the numbers? We interacted with hundreds of people, Finch! How is that possible?” John cried.

“How was any of it possible, Mr. Reese?”

Harold walked over to John and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. The world around them was grey, but a few hardy wildflowers were poking through the frost.

“Is it over, Finch? Will the numbers keep on coming?” John asked.

Harold paused, and then he looked over at his partner.

“I don’t know, Mr. Reese. I was given some information, though,” he said cryptically.

“Please tell me, Harold,” Reese implored. His eyes were earnest, full of life.

Harold’s countenance softened.

“It’s time to leave, Mr. Reese. It isn’t up to me,” he said gently.

“Who told you? How do you know?” John asked quietly. 

“A little bird told me,” Harold murmured.

“Harold, wait! There are people out there that we have to save! This can’t be the end!” John exclaimed, crestfallen.

“On the contrary, Mr. Reese, this is just the beginning.”

Harold offered a hand to John, and the other man took it cautiously, wonderingly.

“Hold on tight, John,” he said with a smile.

They stepped off the hill, above the gravestones, and the mist swirled around their ankles.

They began their ascent, Harold leading John, and they looked back at their city, marveling, until it became a tiny silver dot against the brightening sky.


End file.
